Bubbles
by Jacknimble
Summary: Ive been having a rough time with one of my other stories so I tried to write something else. Let me know if it's any good and I'll continue it, I guess.


The first day of school is always the hardest, but school picture day is a close second. I stalled at the front doors, patting down my skirt, I had wanted to look nice today so I opted out of my usual attire for a more floatsy green skirt with a light blue blouse. I even brought a box of muffins from home to give to Trixie so she might be nice to me for once.

While I was busy making sure that I looked alright, I could feel the pastry box tipping in my hand, so I lunged to grab it with my other hand, squeaking softly in surprise. I felt my hip connect with something solid and a shout came from beside me. I glanced over the short railing and into the bush next to the stairs and saw an angry girl staring up at me.

"Oh no…" I said softly to myself as she seethed.

"What the hell is your problem?" Trixie yelled, untangling herself from the bush and standing up, pulling leaves from her hair, "You'd think with your eyes pointing two different ways, one of them would be watching where you were going!"

I looked down at my feet, folding in on myself.

"You ruined my outfit for school pictures, you klutz!" She screamed, gesturing at the dirt staining her lower half and the small scratches coating her arms.

I ran my finger over the lid of the muffin box, hopefully they didn't get ruined when they tilted, that would only make this worse, "Um, Trixie?" I muttered, holding out the box to her, "I-I got you muffins…" I say quietly.

Trixie snorted and rolled her eyes, holding a hand out towards me, palm up. I flinched away at first but slowly dropped the box into her awaiting hand. It wounded me to give away something so wonderful to someone who treated me so awful. But my dad always said that it was better to swallow your pride than your teeth. I didn't want to get in any fights, I just wanted to get along with Trixie.

"Wow, Derpy, did you make these?" Trixie asked, her voice suddenly soft. I decided to let it slide that she used my nickname that she had given me, now the whole school called me that. As long as she wasn't going to bother me for the rest of the day. I just wanted to look pretty.

"Because they suck," she said harshly, dropping the box and letting it slap to the ground. My muffins! I dropped to my knees and gasped, staring at the mess in front of Trixie. "Oops, sorry Derpy. Butterfingers, you must know how it is." She took a step on the box, crushing it further into the dirt before she stepped around me and went inside. I whimpered softly and felt tears well up in my crooked eyes.

Why did she have to be so mean all the time? I never did anything to her or anybody for that matter, but Trixie thought it was necessary to make fun of me, whether it was because of my clothes, my eyes, or whatever accident I had just committed. Nobody else stopped, they were all so far under Trixie's command that they didn't even look at me as I sat there, staring at a box of muffins that got crushed into the ground.

But then, there was one person who stopped and held out a hand to me, "What on earth are you doing down there?" I looked up into the face of a boy my age, though he was taller than I was, his face plastered with a curious grin and topped off with a head of messy brown hair. "C'mon then, up you get," he said, gesturing for me to take his hand. I turned my eyes away from him, only daring to look out the corner of my eye, a trick to keep people from noticing them right off. He helped me to my feet and wiped his hands briskly. "Wouldn't want that nice outfit of yours to get all dirty, now would we?"

I smiled to myself and looked down at my hands as they fidgeted with the hem of my skirt. I stole a glance at his attire and noticed that he was wearing a crisp white shirt and a red bow tie. He looked just as good as Trixie did. "There's just one thing missing…" He muttered to himself, frowning and rubbing his chin, deep in thought.

I was about to ask what when he snapped his fingers and exclaimed an "Ah ha!" causing me to jump at the sudden noise, "It's your face! Now, don't get me wrong," he said, hurrying off the path towards the flower beds that lined the school. His voice trailed off and it gave me time to throw out the muffin box, a moment of silence for their passing, "… all we have to do is find a way to pin your hair back, yellow seems to be your color, does it not?" He asked, putting a yellow flower into my hair, the stem acting like a clip and holding back the bangs that framed my face.

I was staring right at him, and he just looked down at me and smiled. I don't get it, my lopsided eyes were right there in front of him, muffin crumbs on my hands and dirt on my knees, but this guy just stood there and smirked at me without noticing anything about it. Was this how it felt to be normal? To have people accept you for who you are without judging you on your outward appearance? It felt… very nice.

"My name is Turner," he offered, holding a hand out between the two of us.

"Ditsy," I said, wiping my hand before putting it into his.


End file.
